


listen to the sound of my heart (it calls for you)

by noljagolcha (daelighthwi)



Category: Golden Child (Korea Band)
Genre: Classroom, Fuschia, M/M, Valentines' Day, actually this whole fic is nico's fault if it sucks blame him, baby gays in love, chaeyoung appears for like a whole second, that is entirely nico's fault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-02 10:16:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15794472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daelighthwi/pseuds/noljagolcha
Summary: There must be something in the air today, because it’s sucking the air out of Jibeom’s lungs and he finds himself finding it a little hard to breathe in such close proximity to Jaehyun.alternatively, love is in the air.





	listen to the sound of my heart (it calls for you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nico](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nico/gifts).



> this was done after i asked for people to drop keywords into my cc so i could write a fic with them, and i got "classroom" and "fuschia". and from this was born this shitty highschool!au featuring boys in love and their valentines day shenanigans
> 
>    
> i usually select a BGM for my works, so the BGM for this one is (unsurprisingly) It's U — our golden nuggets  
> title from: bts — save me

When Jibeom takes his first step into his classroom, his vision is immediately assaulted by the brightest (and ugliest) shades of pink and red.

 

His jaw drops and he surveys his surroundings slowly, taking in the strange sight. His usually drab classroom is decorated, for the lack of a better word, _nicely_ for once.

 

There’s the heady scent of fresh flowers in the air mixed in with what seems to be cheap cologne. Bouquets are piled high on someone’s desk (Jibeom squints, it’s probably Joochan’s desk).

 

There are pink streamers hanging from the windows and red hearts pasted haphazardly along the walls. One flutters to the ground desolately and is promptly stepped on by a girl handing a flower to a very familiar head of platinum blonde hair. A pink flush tints her cheeks as she shoves the red rose in her hands to Geumdong High’s resident tsundere and Jibeom’s best friend — Bong Jaehyun.

 

Something stirs inside of him and Jibeom isn’t sure why he feels so unsettled, but he tells himself that this is normal. He had long since figured out that it was honestly only a matter of time before people figured out how handsome Jaehyun really is and started to take notice of him.

 

It must be the cheeks, Jibeom concludes. No one can resist Jaehyun when he's looking all handsome like this.

 

He continues to stare for a few heartbeats before he snorts and makes his way over, dropping his bag into the chair adjacent to the awkward interaction which mainly consists of Jaehyun eyeing the flower with mild disdain and the girl trying to get him to accept it.

 

“Stop tormenting poor Chaeyoung,” Jibeom chides playfully. Swiftly, he plucks the rose from the girl’s grip and tucks it into Jaehyun’s shirt pocket, patting it securely. “Thanks Chaeyoung, I’m sure Jaehyun appreciates your gift for him,” he adds, laughing silently to himself as Chaeyoung blushes an even brighter red and stammers out a greeting before she makes a hasty exit.

 

Jaehyun watches her go silently and once her back has disappeared, he looks at Jibeom, who’s wiggling his eyebrows at him. “What,” he snaps, shoving his shoulder in irritation, “Can’t I receive gifts at all?”

 

“ _Jaehyun oppa,_ ” Jibeom says in a pitch that’s way too high for Chaeyoung’s speaking voice, waving his hands in a dramatic fashion, “ _I really like you_.  _I think you’re very cute_ –”

 

He’s cut off sharply by Jaehyun, who’s terribly unamused. “Say it louder, won’t you? I don’t think it was loud enough for her to hear.”

 

“Why didn’t you take the flower from her? She looked like she was about to shit her pants.”

 

Jaehyun pulls a face and removes the rose from his shirt pocket. “I don’t like her that way and I didn’t want to give her any ideas.”

 

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Jibeom says, laying a hand across his forehead, “Hey, but what if it backfires? Like she ends up thinking you’re such a tsundere and falls for you more-” Jaehyun’s answering grimace is enough to send Jibeom into another fit of giggles, gasping for breath as he shakes with laughter.

 

“It really isn’t funny.” Jaehyun’s tone is flat. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

 

Jibeom sobers up, smile staying on his face as the wheezes of laughter die down. “It’s only funny because it’s _you_ who’s getting gifts. What’s so special about today anyway? There’s already been so many confessions out in the hallway.”

 

It’s Jaehyun’s turn to stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Jibeom-ah,” he says slowly, as if there is something painfully obvious that he has inadvertently failed to take notice of, “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

 

Jibeom’s confused for all of 5 seconds before something finally clicks and the realisation hits, along with a wave of fresh shame that has him dropping his head onto his bag and groaning out loud. “How’d I even forget, oh my god.”

 

“Were you even planning on getting anyone anything?” Jaehyun asks and Jibeom turns to face him, feeling mouth go dry. He swallows thickly around the giant lump in his throat that just has to be his heart and blinks twice. He’s leaning awfully close into Jibeom’s personal space, and there must be something in the air today, because it’s sucking the oxygen out of Jibeom’s lungs and he finds himself finding it a little hard to breathe in such close proximity to Jaehyun.

 

“Yeah,” he replies, “Someone.”

 

It may just be a trick of the light, but Jibeom swears that he sees Jaehyun’s calm expression falter.

 

“Ah, who?”

 

“I’m not telling you. The last time I told you something, you told the whole school.”

 

That’s not exactly why he isn’t telling Jaehyun who exactly he’s planning to give a Valentine’s Day gift to, but as long as he doesn’t question it, Jibeom’s perfectly fine with letting secrets be secrets.

 

“Touché,” Jaehyun laughs, then pauses for a while, staring down at his hands as if contemplating something very important. When he lifts his head again to meet Jibeom's questioning gaze, there is a flame of resolute determination alight in the chocolatey-brown depths of his eyes and Jibeom is entranced. “Hey Jibeom," Jaehyun starts with growing uncertainty, "I need to tell you something–”

 

“Look alive, people!” Mr Lee’s loud voice comes blaring from the front of the room, cutting Jaehyun off midsentence. He slams his books down on the wooden desk with a loud bang and proceeds to thwack his palm against the whiteboard for all its worth, trying to rouse a class full of lethargic 17-year olds. “It's a wonderful morning, so not a single one of you should be sleeping in my class!" As if the universe was against him today, Mr Lee's eagle-eyes zero in on Jibeom. "Kim Jibeom! Get your head off the table and start paying some attention!”

 

That’s enough for him to straighten up in his seat, stretching his arms slightly. As he rolls his neck, he remembers that Jaehyun had something seemingly important to tell him and tilts his head inconspicuously at him, motioning for him to continue. “What's up?” He whispers, rubbing at his nose with his free hand.

 

Jaehyun’s head shoots up slightly, and he begins to worry away at his bottom lip, a nervous habit that he's had ever since they were both small boys growing up together.

 

Jibeom's eyes narrow comically.

 

Out of everything that happened today, there's only one thing that would be of any relevance at this particular moment and it is that same thing that would presumably be of utmost importance in Jaehyun's mind. It must be something to do with Valentine's Day, he deduces, maybe something to do with Chaeyoung?

 

As the questions build up in his head, Jibeom's curiosity increases as well and soon, he's tugging on the edge of Jaehyun's sleeve and whining for him to _please, spill the tea, it's his right and duty as his best friend to tip the kettle over once it’s begun to boil-_

 

Without even turning back to look, Mr Lee says calmly, "Jaehyun, if you paid as much attention to this class than to Jibeom, I think you may actually have a greater shot at landing a spot in the top 10 like your best friend. Think about that for a little bit before you go and allow your mind to wander."

 

Jaehyun responds with a bland apology and turns back to Jibeom, glancing conspiratorially at Mr Lee's back and then shaking his head. “I’ll tell you later.”

 

Jibeom pouts but nods, even though he knows that he’ll definitely not hear whatever it is that Jaehyun had to say until he remembers it next. Which, having known him for longer than he can remember, is likely never. It's no hidden secret that Jaehyun is very scatterbrained, and it has always been one of his greatest flaws. Jibeom might be biased, but he thinks that his best friend's unintentional absentmindedness is also part of his unique charm.

 

He sighs as he flips opens his notebook, shaking his heads to clear his thoughts of his best friend and turning them towards whatever Mr Lee has to say.

 

 

 

 

“I need to borrow your notes, so hand them over.” The almost-question that comes right after the lesson is over and Mr Lee has speedwalked out of the classroom is something that Jibeom has gotten used to over the course of the year. He doesn’t have to open a single eye from where his face is buried into his(? Jaehyun’s?) jacket to know that it’s Jaehyun.

 

“Go away, asshole,” he groans, “Maybe you should pay more attention in class and stop being so distracted.”

 

“Maybe if you weren’t so distracting I would actually be able to,” Jaehyun mutters under his breath, so soft that Jibeom wouldn’t have been able to hear it if the classroom hadn’t fallen awfully silent just then.

 

Someone coughs awkwardly and it soon becomes evident that the entire class heard what he had said. Jaehyun blindly reaches out for his chair behind him and sinks down into his seat, tips of his ears flaming red.

 

“Look what you’ve done,” he groans, “Not only have you ruined my grades so far, you’ve done the same for my reputation.”

 

“What reputation?” Jibeom admits, he deserves the slap to the back of the head he got right after that snide comment. “Nobody likes you here, I can tell.”

 

Jaehyun purses his lips.

 

They’re quite plush and pretty, Jibeom’s mind remarks offhandedly, and he wonders briefly if they’re as soft as they look.

 

“I’ve gotten one rose,” he says in retaliation, "What have  _you_ gotten? Practically nothing, I’ll bet.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Jibeom stands abruptly, his chair screeching across the floor as it is shoved out of the way by the backs of his knees. He grabs Jaehyun by the wrist, ignoring the hushed murmurs of surprise that ripple across the classroom and Jaehyun’s muttered ' _what the actual fuck'_ , and starts to drag them both out of the room. “We’re going to prove that right now.”

 

“How?” Jaehyun splutters, “Let go of me, dumbass!” He wrenches his hand out of Jibeom’s grasp just as they step out into the hallway and rubs at it. “I can walk by myself,” he adds, “And I don’t want to come with you to find out if you’ve gotten anything this Valentine’s Day.”

 

“Why not?” Jibeom shrugs nonchalantly, pretending that he isn’t bothered by the fact that Jaehyun seems so repulsed by having direct skin contact with him. For God’s sake, it’s not like he has leprosy or anything. “We’ll finally put an end to who, out of the two of us, is more well-liked.”

 

“It’s not me,” Jaehyun says immediately and Jibeom shushes him with a finger.

 

“Shut up for a moment,” He says, “You can’t be too certain. Don’t need to rush to unfounded conclusions here.” He comes to a stop in front of his locker, twisting the numbers in the lock before wrenching it open, and promptly feeling any words that he might have said die on the tip of his tongue. “T-there’s nothing.”

 

Jaehyun hooks his chin over Jibeom’s shoulder and squints into the dimly-illuminated space. “That’s pathetic.” Jibeom promptly elbows him in the stomach and revels in the pained whoosh of air beside his ear as he doubles over in pain. “I can’t say I wasn’t expecting this,” Jaehyun says through the dull ache in his stomach, “Now can we leave?”

 

Refusing to admit defeat, Jibeom simply turns his face away from him and begins to rummage through his locker. “What if it’s lost within this mess here?” He says, frantically flipping through a textbook he’s picked up, “And then I’ll never know who likes me. And then I’ll grow old and wrinkly and remain all alone for the rest of my life.”

 

“You’ll have me,” Jaehyun says, “Unless you buy a cat or something. I don’t like cats.”

 

“I’ll buy 50 then; you’d better stay far away from me.”

 

“I try to be nice and offer to keep you company when you’re old and this is what you choose to do to me.” Jaehyun retorts, folding his arms across his chest.

 

They both know Jibeom will never actually buy 50 cats. Reason number 1; he can barely take care of himself at this young age, let alone 50 cats when he's old and rickety and his bones don't work as they used to before. Reason number 2; he's pretty sure that would be hoarding, and that it is illegal.

 

Reason number 3 is the one he hasn't admitted out loud to anyone, not even himself. It's that he can't stand to be too far away from Jaehyun for too long. Ever since they first met, his best friend had become a permanent fixture in his life, a ray of sunshine in Kim Jibeom’s terribly drab and boring grey world. It's come to a point in which he can't remember a single point in time where they hadn't done anything together and he simply can't imagine a future without Jaehyun.

 

Jibeom picks up the last book on the shelf. It’s his journal, the old worn one in which he’s consistently been writing down a thought a day since Jaehyun gave it to him as a birthday present many years ago.

 

As he flips through it, something flutters gently to the ground. Jaehyun watches its slow, swaying descent, face going slightly white. He tries to pick it up but Jibeom is faster, snatching it up from the ground.

 

“Aha!” he says, brandishing it like an achievement certificate. “It must be a love letter for me!”

 

Jaehyun has gone deathly silent and he’s averting his eyes, looking everywhere but at Jibeom. But this is not the time for him to dwell on how weird his best friend is acting, not while he holds a potential confession note in his hands.

 

Jibeom holds it out in front of his face and turns it over a few times, inspecting it for a second.

 

It is a bright fuschia, the pleasant colour not too bright but still eye-catching, and it smells slightly of the air freshener that Jaehyun’s mom likes to put in his room. Jibeom’s been over to the Bong’s residence so many times that he could recognise the familiar sweet scent in his sleep. Jibeom really likes it, especially when Jaehyun slings an arm over his shoulder in early mornings and he catches an accidental whiff of it.

 

He can't quite describe it, but the comforting scent somehow reminds him of a home away from home.

 

Carefully, he unfolds the note. It’s handwritten with pretty penmanship; the sweet lines make the sincerity of the note obvious. “Y _our smile put the sun to shame,_ ” Jibeom quotes the very first thing his eyes land upon and bursts into laughter. “Do you hear that, Jae? How cheesy.” He smiles at Jaehyun, but the latter evidently doesn’t find this as amusing as he does, his jaw clenched and red creeping up his neck, slowly but steadily.

 

“Can I go now?” Jaehyun's voice sounds forced.

 

“What’s wrong? Did I say something?”

 

“No, you–” He sighs. “I’m sorry, but can I go? Please.”

 

Jibeom’s brain comes to a stuttering halt.

 

In all his years of knowing him, Bong Jaehyun has never once apologised; not even when he (accidentally) broke Jibeom’s science fair project, despite having known how much time and effort he’d poured into recreating a model of the solar system. Jibeom forgave him anyway. He’s never been able to be angry with Jaehyun.

 

“O-oh,” he says dumbly, “Go ahead.”

 

Jaehyun mutters a quick and barely audible " _thanks_ " before he's hurrying away, bangs flopping into his eyes and shrouding them from scrutiny. Something doesn't sit right with him, watching him leave so abruptly and Jibeom wonders for a brief moment if he should go after him and ask how he's doing. But the letter still rests in his hands and Jibeom cannot just leave without finishing the entire thing.

 

As he turns his attention back to the innocent-looking fuschia note in his hands, he notices something strange.

 

The lazy scrawl scratched across the paper is something that Jibeom stares at on a daily basis, the familiar loops and strokes of the Korean characters filling up the fuschia paper in familiar black ink.

 

Even the way his name is written is familiar. It’s the way his name is scribbled on top of his worksheets when he isn’t there to fill in his name himself, and it’s the way his name is penned down on the birthday letters gifted to him yearly.

 

Jibeom freezes, his grip on the note tightening ever-so-slightly.

 

There’s only one person who writes like this in the entire school.

 

He forces himself to take deep breaths, not to jump to conclusions, because for all he knows, this could just be someone with the exact same handwriting as Jaehyun. It doesn't mean that it was Jaehyun who'd written the note to him this Valentine's Day.

 

But what are the odds?

 

He scans the contents of the note, reading it quickly.

 

 _Dear Jibeom_ , the note reads,

_You don't know this but I've liked you since the moment I saw you._

_Ever since I smacked your ice cream out of your hand and you'd cried, so hard that my mother made me buy another one for you._

_Your smile put the sun to shame and as I looked at you I just knew that you were special._

 

 

Jibeom scuffs the ground with his shoe. There's absolutely no doubt that it's Jaehyun now.

 

He remembers the day they first met like it was just yesterday. It is exactly as Jaehyun had written, just that it was Jibeom's birthday and he'd just recovered from a nasty cough; that was the first ice cream he had been allowed to eat after painstakingly eating porridge and bland soup for a whole month. Then, a chubby, wide-eyed kid had smacked his most treasured possession out of his hands and he'd bawled, forgetting his mother's gentle scolding about not crying because he was a big grown-up now.

 

Then, the same chubby, now guilty-eyed kid had forked over some money and bought him a new ice cream, served to him cold with a side of muttered apologies. Jibeom accepted it, and the rest, they say, is history.

 

 

_And as we grew, I grew too. I grew surer that it was you all along._

_You make my heart flutter, cliche as this sounds._  

_It's taken me a lot of courage to actually even write this letter- God, what was I thinking-_

_but I just wanted to say that I l̶o̶v̶e̶ like you a lot._

 

 

The card ends there. It isn't signed, but Jibeom doesn't need a signature or a name to know who it is. 

 

He inhales sharply and tries to collect his thoughts, leaning his forehead against the cool metal of his locker. To say he hasn’t been thinking of Jaehyun as more than a friend would be a big lie. And as much of a liar he may be, he’s never once lied to himself.

 

It is the thought of holding Jaehyun’s hand during a thunderstorm that keeps Jibeom awake at night, dreaming of a tomorrow where he can steal kisses in the dusty old stairwell in between classes, being wrapped up in his presence, with nothing yet everything different, just _Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun_ –

 

Making up his mind, he folds the note hurriedly and shoves it into his pocket, breaking into a run down the hallway which Jaehyun disappeared down not too long ago. Someone yells at him to stop-  _No running in the hallways, kid!_ But Jibeom barely hears them, Jaehyun's confession taking over his mind, filling his thoughts, until all he can think of is his best friend.

 

 

 

 

Jibeom finds Jaehyun alone on the rooftop.

 

The wind is stirring, blowing air through his blonde locks as he stares off into the horizon, legs dangling off the edge of the building. The afternoon sun casts an ethereal glow on his face, illuminating his cheekbones and highlighting his jawline. Jibeom's mouth goes dry, and he's suddenly hit with the realisation that they've grown up. Sitting before him isn't the chubby kid with the round cheeks from the playground years ago, it is Bong Jaehyun, resident tsundere of Geumdong High, and Kim Jibeom's secret crush. 

 

 _His Valentine,_ Jibeom thinks giddily, and he gathers every ounce of courage he can find within him. He's going to need it. 

 

He takes a deep breath.  _It's now or never_. 

 

"Please tell me you were the one who wrote me the note, or this is going to get really embarrassing."

 

Jaehyun turns, blonde hair flopping back into his eyes as his burning gaze lingers on Jibeom for a few seconds too long and he starts to feel embarrassment prickling along his spine, the uncomfortable feeling twisting under his skin until he’s fidgeting with his hands and looking everywhere except at Jaehyun.

 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun breathes eventually, "It was." 

 

"It's not a prank, is it?" Struck by a sudden, fleeting moment of insecurity, Jibeom wonders if he made the right choice confronting Jaehyun about it. What if it was just a prank? What if Jibeom's managed to embarrass himself right in front of his best friend? Nevermind crush, if this really were a joke and he'd fell for it obliviously, it would be difficult for them to return to being best friends, let alone Jibeom having a crush on–

 

"Yeah, it was."

 

Jibeom's blood runs cold. "W-what?" 

 

"No, you dumbfuck." Jaehyun clambers up from the edge of the rooftop, rubbing his nose irritatedly, "It's Valentine's Day, not April Fools." 

 

“Oh,” Jibeom says weakly, relaxing ever-so-slightly, “I just thought– maybe assumed that you -um- liked Chaeyoung.” Which is true, because he did.

 

“I don’t.” Jaehyun says softly. “It’s you. It’s always been you, and it will always be you.”

 

His cheeks are dusted with a soft pink, like the pink powdered sugar on those peach rice cakes that he likes to offer to Jibeom in the middle of class to keep them both awake. Jaehyun's bottom lip is caught between his teeth again; he's chewing on it, eyes round and innocent as he glances nervously at Jibeom's expression, trying to gauge his response to his confession.

 

Jibeom removes the paper from his pocket and unfolds it, face glowing red. "Is... is this all you have to say to me?" 

 

To his surprise, Jaehyun shakes his head. "No," he laughs, pulling one more paper out of his pocket, "There's another half to it."

 

Another sheet of crumpled fuschia paper is shoved into Jibeom's hands. He smooths it out gingerly. 

 

 

_Be my Valentine?_

_Yes     /    Yes_

 

 

He can hardly stop the grin that's tugging on the corners of his lips, pulling them heavenwards as he waves the paper in Jaehyun's face. 

 

"Yes!" He shouts, unable to control his exuberation, "Of course!"

 

"Circle it."

 

"What?"

 

Jaehyun pulls a pen out of his pocket and places it into Jibeom's palm. "Answer the question."

 

Jibeom rolls his eyes, but does as he says, circling both options multiple times until there is a big, blue blotch of ink against fuschia paper. Jaehyun's entire demeanour seems to shift then, relaxing as he takes a few steps forward to wrap his arms around Jibeom's waist, resting his chin on his shoulder. "Okay then," he hums contentedly, "Happy Valentine's Day." 

 

There's a soft press of lips to Jibeom's cheek, the lightest touch against his skin as he turns to level Jaehyun with a look of betrayal. "Now that's not fair," he complains, "You have to give me a proper one. That like, doesn't count. At all."

 

There must really be something in the air, because suddenly there's newfound courage bubbling up like a spring from the depths of Jibeom's heart, love spilling over as he surges forward with a sudden burst of confidence, pressing his lips to Jaehyun's own. 

 

He pulls away quick as lightning, eyes widening in abject horror. "I'm so sorry– I really shouldn't have done that without asking you–"

 

Jaehyun simply shushes him, pulling him in closer and kissing him again.

 

His lips are soft and he tastes sweet, the tingles along his lips where they're fitted against Jaehyun's own intoxicating to the point that Jibeom's knees go weak and he feels completely drunk off his love.

 

They break apart when the bell rings, signifiying the end of their break and the start of a class. Jaehyun's cheeks are flushed a rosy pink, a few shades lighter than the fuschia paper he clutches tightly in his left hand. 

 

"We can't let our first date be spent in detention," he chuckles, grabbing Jibeom by the hand and dragging him away, "Come on!"

 

Dazed, Jibeom tries to follow, stumbling along as he picks up his pace, hurrying down the stairs. 

 

Only one thought lingers as he lets himself get pulled along back to their classroom, fingers tightly linked with Jaehyun's, and it makes Jibeom smile dopily to himself. 

 

 

Jaehyun's lips are, indeed, as soft as they look. 

**Author's Note:**

> happy 1st anniversary, golcha! here's to 99 years and more ♡


End file.
